Sugar High!
by brassband777
Summary: AU. Mary is still alive. Mary goes out for the evening with friends after taking Dean (8) and Sammy (4) trick or treating, leaving John to cope with two children hyped up on sugar. Lots of fluff! Caring John. WARNING: Contains parental spanking of minors. please do not read if this offends.


**Title****: Sugar High**  
**Author****:** **brassband777**  
**Characters****: John Winchester, Mary Winchester, Dean (8), Sam (4)**  
**Scenario****:** **wee!chester**. **Written for the prompt challenge on LiveJournal (Feb/March 2013)**

**Prompt:** '**Halloween – Mary takes the boys trick-or-treating. After bringing them home, she leaves to attend some kind of event (whatever she is doing isn`t important) making John stuck at home with two boys who of course have more than their share of sweets. How will John cope with both kids on a sugar kick? You can pick the boys ages, though I personally prefer them to be quite small here'. Prompt by Capricorn1986.**

**Warning:**** contains parental spanking.**

**Author's Notes****: this fic is set in my AU where Mary is still alive. In this AU, Mary was brought up as a hunter, but her family never had any dealings with the Yellow-Eyed-Demon. She has kept the truth of the existence of the supernatural from both her husband and her children. **

John Winchester looked up from his accounts book as his wife, Mary, entered the room carrying their excited four-year-old.

"Daddy, I's a bunny!" squealed his youngest, clapping his little hands in excitement.

"So you are, Sammy."

Even though he was snowed under with work, John couldn't help smiling at the toddler's enthusiasm.

Sam squirmed in his mother's arms, wanting to be put down. Mary obligingly set him on his feet and he immediately clambered up onto his father's lap.

"Bunnies go hoppity hoppity hop," giggled Sam, bouncing up and down on John's knee.

John immediately set down his calculator and wrapped an arm around the little boy's waist to prevent him from falling off. He looked fondly down at the child bouncing on his lap – the kid looked totally adorable! Sam was wearing a one-piece, furry white rabbit costume complete with a fluffy tail and a hood with two long, floppy ears. Mary had completed the look by using face-paint to make the child's face white and had added a black nose and whiskers.

The little boy ceased his bouncing and started playing with the buttons on his father's shirt instead. John dropped a kiss onto Sam's head.

"You sure you don't want me to come with you, Mare?"

Mary shook her head.

"No, I'll be fine, Johnny. I know you're swamped with work and you might as well get as much done as you can while you've got peace and quiet, without our two little darlings being able to interrupt you." Knowing how overprotective John could be, Mary added," Anyway, there'll be loads of people around so don't worry and don't forget I was trained in self-defence growing up."

In reality, with her hunter's upbringing, Mary knew that she could protect herself and kids far better than John ever could even with his height and weight advantage as well as his marine training. Mary had deliberately kept her husband in the dark about her past – she wanted nothing to do with hunting ever again, she just wanted a normal family life.

Although John would have loved to spend Halloween trick or treating with his family, he was glad of the chance to catch up on the accounts and stocktaking. John and his partner (and good friend), Mike Sanderson, had purchased the autoshop when their old boss had retired two years ago. They had employed someone to man the reception desk, to take calls, make bookings, place orders for parts and handle the finance side of things, leaving he and Mike free to concentrate on fixing the cars. Their previous employee, Greg Turner, had been a godsend, brilliant at his job, but he and his family had moved to another state a month ago. John and Mike had hired someone to replace him, but the new guy had failed to show up on his first day of work, leaving them in the lurch. They had interviewed again immediately and had signed up a replacement, but he couldn't start for another three weeks when his contract with his present employer ended. John couldn't wait! He treasured the quality family time they usually shared every evening and at weekends. His own father had walked out on him and his mother during his childhood without any explanation and he was determined that his own sons would never suffer from an absentee father like he had.

Sam spotted the calculator sitting on the table and gleefully grabbed it, pressing the numbers at random. John watched the boy with amusement for a moment before reaching out with the arm that wasn't holding Sammy to wrap around his wife's waist and pull her to his side.

"Just be careful, okay Mare?"

"I will do, John. We'll be no later than an hour and a half, so there's no need to send out the cavalry before then."

Mary leaned down to give her husband a lingering kiss, which was interrupted by their eight-year-old barging excitedly into the room.

"Momma, can you please fasten my sheriff's badge, I can't do it," asked Dean.

John grinned at the boy's choice of costume – he had once dressed as a cowboy at Halloween during his own childhood. His eldest was like him in many ways, whereas Sammy seemed to take more after his mother. Dean's costume, like Sammy's, had been bought from the local fancy dress shop and was of good quality. The fake leather chaps he was wearing over his pants looked real and he had an authentic looking waistcoat over his cream-coloured shirt. The outfit was completed by a cowboy hat and a gun belt complete with holsters and two toy pistols.

Mary took the proffered silver plastic star-shaped badge and attached it to the left hand side of the waistcoat.

"My, what a handsome sheriff," teased Mary, removing his hat and ruffling his short dark blond hair.

"Momma!" complained Dean, ducking away from her hand and reaching for his cowboy hat, "Can we go yet? Can we? Please?" The child was so excited that he was bouncing on the balls of his feet, an ear-splitting grin lighting up his young freckled face.

Mary shook her head fondly. _If Dean was this excited now, what would he be like when hyped up on loads of candy?_ For a moment, she felt guilty that she was abandoning John to look after two children, who would undoubtedly be on a sugar high, once she returned from the trick or treating. Months ago, she had arranged to meet up and go out for a meal with hunter friends that she had made growing up. Although she had turned her back on that lifestyle, she hadn't turned her back on her friends. She hadn't known at the time that Greg would leave and John would be swamped with paperwork from the garage, but rescheduling the meal wasn't an option as her friends' hunts for supernatural monsters took them all over the country.

"Don't forget the boys can stay up half an hour later tonight," she told John.

John glanced up at the clock before replying, "Why? If you're going to be no later than an hour and a half, it'll just be in time to bath Sammy and put him in bed."

Mary chuckled. "You really want to try put an energetic, wide awake, candy-filled toddler straight to bed? You're setting him up to fail. He'll need to get rid of his excess energy and calm down first."

John grimaced, remembering past bedtimes when his children had been too excited before bedtime. "I suppose you're right, Mare. But Dean can go to bed normal time 'cause it's not right after the trick or treating."

Seeing her now disgruntled eldest about to voice his opinion, Mary got in first. "And if you were Dean, John, what would you think of that?" Mary raised her eyebrows questioningly. "Your baby brother gets to stay up half an hour later, but you don't?"

John closed his eyes briefly, knowing he was defeated and seeing the logic. "I get it, it wouldn't be fair. Fine, they can both stay up."

"Cool!" enthused Dean, his green eyes shining.

Five minutes later, Mary ushered her two excited sons out of the front door.

**Supernatural ~ Supernatural ~ Supernatural ~**

John sighed as he totalled yet another column of numbers. He didn't seem to be getting anywhere fast. When he heard the key in the lock heralding the return of his family, John glanced at the clock in surprise. An hour and a half couldn't have passed already, he'd hardly made a dent in the paperwork before him! But it had.

"Daddy!" Sammy ran straight to him.

"Hey, tiger. Did you have fun?" John stood and scooped the four-year-old up into his arms.

Sam nodded. "Uh-huh. 'N I got lots 'n lots' n lotsa candy! Wanna see?"

He waved his orange, pumpkin-shaped bucket in front of his father's face. John had to pull back in order to avoid being hit with it.

"Wow, you did get a lot. How about you, Deano, you have fun too?" John turned to address his eldest.

Dean moved forward, grinning. John secured his youngest on his hip and reached out and gave Dean a one-armed hug.

"Yeah, Daddy, it was so cool. I saw one kid dressed as Darth Vader. Can I go as him next year?" Dean didn't pause for John to answer and just carried on his excited prattle, "But we met some real jerks. They tried to frighten Sammy, but they know better now! Hmph!"

John raised worried questioning eyes to Mary. Sammy _seemed_ okay but wanted to make sure.

Mary smiled reassuringly. "You'd have been proud of him, John. There was a group of four, I'm guessing twelve or thirteen-year-olds and they thought it would be a good idea to make loud roaring sounds and chase Sammy. Well, Dean set them straight, he stood his ground and yelled at them, telling them they were big bullies and should pick on someone their own size. You should have seen their faces – I don't think they expected to be told off by an eight-year-old. In fact, I think they expected him to run screaming as well."

John tightened his arm around Dean for a moment. "That was very brave, Dean. I'm really proud of you for protecting Sammy like that. You're a fantastic big brother."

Dean beamed at the praise.

"Okay boys, give me your candy. You can have two a day until it's gone. And then let's get you out of those costumes." Mary held out her hands for the buckets.

Sammy was reluctant to hand his over, which was expected. Dean however, immediately handed his over without protest, which was unexpected.

"I'm….uh….gonna go get changed now," muttered the eight-year-old, hurrying from the room.

If John hadn't been busy prising the bucket out of his stubborn toddler's hand, he might have been more suspicious at his eldest's acquiescence.

Once in his bedroom with the door shut safely behind him, Dean emptied out the pockets of his waistcoat, which he had filled with chocolates and sweets, knowing from experience that his candy would be taken from him and rationed. He grinned at his stash before hiding it in the drawer in his bedside table.

Downstairs, Sam was sulking, having been successfully separated from his Halloween treats.

"Baby, you had enough sweets while we were walking around." Mary tried to smooth his ruffled feathers.

"Nuh-uh, I didn't have not none!" the toddler insisted, turning pleading puppy-dog eyes on his father, "Daddy, I _needs_ some candy!"

"You _need_ it, huh?" grinned John.

"Uh-huh." Sam nodded forcefully. _Maybe Daddy would give him some?_

"Sorry, tiger, but Momma says you can't have any." John smirked at Mary.

Mary playfully swatted the back of John's head. "That's right, make _me_ out to be the bad guy here."

She reached out and took Sam from John. "You can take have some more candy tomorrow. Come on, let's get you changed," she said as she left the room.

**Supernatural ~ Supernatural ~ Supernatural ~**

Mary hugged and kissed both of her children before grabbing her coat and exiting through the front door. John locked the door after her.

"'Member I doesn't have to go to bed yet, Daddy. Momma said I can stay up," Sam tugged on John's sleeve to make sure he had his father's attention.

"Yeah, Sammy. I remember, so you can go and play." John smiled down at his youngest and the toddler grinned back.

"Yay! Come on, Deanie!" Sam scampered off towards the stairs.

Dean rolled his eyes at the nickname '_Deanie' . _He didn't mind 'Dee' or even 'Deano' which his daddy affectionately called him, but he thought 'Deanie' was a nickname for a baby and he was _eight _now. In spite of that, he indulged his little brother – he had once asked Sammy not to call him that but one look at the trembling lower lip that had resulted had made him immediately relent.

"Coming, Sammy!" Dean immediately took off at a run after the four-year-old.

"Hey!" called John sternly after them, "It might be Halloween and you might be having later bedtimes, but the other house rules still apply and that means no running inside!"

John moved back to the dining room table and began scouring the stock lists.

**Supernatural ~ Supernatural ~ Supernatural ~**

John glanced up from the spreadsheet in front of him, his concentration broken once more by the herd of elephants trampling around upstairs. With a sigh he stood up. He had no desire whatsoever to play 'mad dad' when his children had had such a fun evening and were so happy, but this was the fourth time now in the space of twenty minutes that he was going to have to go up to them because they were running in the house. John had given warnings, to no avail.

As he reached the top of the stairs, he was greeted with the sight of Dean speeding after Sam.

"You can't catch me, Dee!" giggled the four-year-old.

"Wanna bet?" retorted Dean, making a lunge for his little brother.

John cleared his throat loudly. "I bet there will be two sore little behinds in a minute." John's stern tone halted both boys in their tracks.

"Sorry, Daddy. We won't run again," said Dean, dropping his gaze to the floor.

"You said that last time, Dean, and you've had lots of chances. I think a warmed bottom will help you to remember not to break the rules."

John reached Dean's side in three strides. He turned the boy sideways and administered a single sharp swat. Dean, once he realised no more slaps were forthcoming, immediately reached back to rub at the sting.

Sam watched, wide-eyed, and when John let go of Dean and moved towards him, the toddler ran away in the other direction. John caught up to his youngest easily and picked him up, tucking him under his arm. Just as he had with Dean, he gave the child a single smack, but lessened the force behind it, taking into account the four year age gap.

"OWWW!" Sam yelped, his lower lip protruding as he was set back on his feet. He glared up at John. "Daddy's a meanie!"

John always found it amusing that a single swat would result in a sulky, pouting Sammy, but two or more swats and it was as if the child was being murdered.

"Now I want you two to play downstairs where I can keep an eye on you."

Dean nodded obediently and held out his hand to his little brother. Sam took it and they followed John down into the living room.

Once there, the two children moved over to the toy box in the corner of the room. Dean got out his Lego set and began to build, while Sam chose to play with a toy car, crawling all over the floor making 'brmm brmm' noises. Satisfied that his kids were sufficiently occupied for the time being, John moved back into the dining room to continue working.

Dean quickly found that he genuinely couldn't sit still. He was itching to go and play football, baseball, anything where he could run and burn off the excess energy. Slowly a plan began to form in his mind….

Fifteen minutes later, John re-entered the room. "Okay, bath time boys."

"Uh, Daddy, could I please have a shower tonight instead?" asked Dean innocently.

Usually the boys always bathed together as they enjoyed playing together in the water, but since Dean's eighth birthday, Mary and John had considered him old enough to shower if he wanted to.

"Sure, kiddo, I don't see why not." John missed the self-satisfied smirk that flashed across his eldest's features.

John held his hand out to his toddler, wondering if Sam would kick up a fuss with Dean not bathing too. He needn't have worried – the baby of the family immediately scrambled to his feet and took his father's hand.

"Can I have lots 'n lots of bubbles, Daddy?"

**Supernatural ~ Supernatural ~ Supernatural ~**

"Okay, Sammy, time to get ready for bed now."

"Noooooo," whined Sam, "play more!"

"Nuh-uh, Sammy. It's bedtime."

John lifted the squirming, complaining four-year-old from the water and set him down on the bathmat before turning to reach for a towel. He turned back to find the bathroom empty.

"Sammy, get back here!" he called sternly.

His only answer was a giggle. John made it to the doorway just in time to see his naked, wet toddler running down the hallway before beginning to descend the stairs, still at a run.

John rushed to the top of the stairs, his heart in his mouth – _what if the child fell?_ He heaved an inward sigh of relief when his youngest reached the bottom safely and ran into the sitting room, still giggling.

John heard Sam's voice calling for his brother. "Dee, come play!"

A moment later, Sam left the sitting room and ran towards the kitchen.

"Dee! Where's you?" he called.

John had reached the bottom of the stairs and followed deliberately after the tiny child, fully intending on giving Sam another smack for running when he caught him. The kitchen was empty, so John moved through the connecting door to the dining room, knowing that was the only direction the toddler could have gone. Sure enough, Sam was standing in the middle of the room, a puzzled expression on his little face.

John opened his mouth to scold the child, but Sam spoke first. "Daddy, where's Dee?"

John was taken by surprise by the question and answered on autopilot, "He was in the sitting room playing with his legos."

Sam shook his head. "Nuh-uh. I lookted there, Daddy."

Forgetting his plan to swat his youngest, John picked up his dripping wet toddler, placed him on his hip and went in search of his eldest. John knew that Dean could have gone up to play in his bedroom while he was bathing Sammy, but it was not like Dean not to come when his little brother called him. Dean took his role as big brother very seriously and Sam had him wrapped around his little finger.

Having checked all of the rooms in the house again with still no sign of Dean, John began to panic. Logically, he knew that the child couldn't have disappeared into thin air, but where was he?

Suddenly, John became aware of the faint glow that was coming through the curtains from outside. A fraction of a second later, the implications of that sunk in – the outside light had been turned on - and John quickly moved into the kitchen. When he tried the back door, sure enough, it was unlocked and John flung it open. The sight that met him filled him with relief: Dean was running across the lawn, a football tucked under his arm. However, the relief was short-lived and was quickly replaced with anger.

"Dean Winchester! Get your butt inside this minute!"

Dean startled at his father's stern voice and dropped the ball. The eight-year-old looked exactly like a deer caught in the headlights. _His plan was supposed to work! Daddy wasn't supposed to come back down for at least another fifteen minutes, at which point, he would have been back in the living room with his legos and Daddy would be none the wiser._

"Why's Dee outside?" asked Sam puzzled.

Glancing down at the toddler on his hip, John realised that Sammy was still completely naked, he had temporarily forgotten that fact while anxious over the whereabouts of his eldest.

Usually, John preferred to administer punishments immediately after the misbehaviour, but in this instance he knew it made more sense to dress his youngest and put him to bed first.

As Dean passed him to enter the kitchen, John drew back his hand and landed an almighty smack on the boy's behind. Dean yelped in response, both hands flying back reflexively to cover his buttocks.

John locked the back door and turned to his eldest. Dean gulped, seeing his father's unyielding stern expression.

"You're to go into the living room and sit on the sofa and wait for me. I'll be down as soon as I've put Sammy to bed. Do not move from that spot. Understood?"

"Yes, Daddy," murmured Dean.

"Say goodnight to Sammy."

John bent over so that the toddler could kiss Dean's cheek as he insisted on doing every night and Dean gave his naked little brother a hug in response. The fact that Sam wasn't wearing any clothes clued Dean in to where his fool proof plan had gone wrong – Daddy had obviously come down after Sam's bath instead of after putting him to bed and reading a story.

"Night night, Dee." Sammy waved as John carried him from the room.

"Night, Sammy," replied Dean before making his way slowly to the living room.

**Supernatural ~ Supernatural ~ Supernatural ~**

Dean chewed on his lower lip fretfully and drummed his fingers nervously on his knee. _Maybe Daddy wouldn't spank him? Maybe he would just tell him off? _The child knew he was kidding himself though and turned his gaze to the doorway once more, waiting anxiously for his father's return.

Upstairs, John finished the story and tucked the covers tightly around Sam.

"Goodnight, tiger," he said, dropping a kiss on the toddler's forehead.

"No, Daddy, no night night. Want 'nother story!" insisted Sammy with a pout.

"Sorry, Sammy. It's bedtime. I'll read you another story in the morning if you'd like?" Not only was John determined to stick to the usual bedtime routine despite Sam's sugar high, but he was also acutely conscious of the fact that Dean would be waiting downstairs with trepidation and John didn't like making his children wait for a punishment.

John stood and switched on the nightlight on the bedside table as Sammy was afraid of the dark, before exiting the room, leaving the door slightly ajar as he always did.

Dean jerked his head up from where he'd been studiously studying the pattern on the carpet when he heard his father enter.

"Care to explain why you were outside without permission, Dean?" John deliberately kept his tone stern, though it was difficult when faced with his eldest's sorrowful countenance.

Dean dropped his gaze and didn't reply. _He hated it when Daddy was angry at him._

"Dean! I want an answer!"

Dean kept his eyes downcast. "I had too much energy," he mumbled, "and I wanted to run around."

John ran his hands through his hair. _Damned sugar high!_

"That still doesn't mean that you can just do whatever you please. You could have crawled around playing cars like Sammy if you needed to be active. You _know_ you're never to leave the house without permission."

"I'm sorry, Daddy. I won't do it again."

John shook his head – inside, he was thanking his lucky stars that Dean had chosen to go in the rear yard which was at least enclosed, but if he'd gone out into the front garden, anyone could have snatched him.

"That's not good enough, Dean. Do you know why you're not allowed out without permission?"

"So you know where I am."

"It's not just that, it's so we can keep you safe…..and being outside at night on your own is dangerous! I think a good spanking will help you to remember that in the future."

Dean felt his heart sink.

John wasted no time lifting his young son over his lap. Considering this a serious offence, John pulled down Dean's sweat pants that he had changed into earlier. The first smack over his underwear caused the child to gasp sharply. Three more swats quickly followed, all of them landing dead centre. John's hand was large and had no trouble covering a large area with each smack. At swat number five, Dean could no longer hold back the tears. John was aware that his eldest had begun to cry and landed another swat before pausing. He hated seeing his children cry and it was even worse when he knew he was the one to cause their tears, but he wanted to make sure that Dean would think twice before ever going anywhere without permission again. With this in mind, John carefully slid down Dean's Batman underwear, baring his already rosy bottom. He had only spanked Dean on the bare once before, a few months ago when he and a friend had been caught playing with matches.

John raised his hand and brought it down sharply, increasing the force behind the slap slightly. The swat hitting bare skin resounded loudly and he felt Dean jerk over his lap. The extra volume had startled the boy and the magnified sting had caused him to involuntarily kick his legs. John wrapped his free arm tighter around the boy's waist to keep him in place and applied a further three smacks to the bare bottom in front of him, confident from the kicking and squirming that the lesson was being learned.

John stopped spanking and rested his hand on Dean's heaving back. The child's quiet crying had worsened to soft sobbing. John rubbed his back gently, leaving him lying across his lap for the moment.

"Hush, Deano. It's all done now. You're forgiven. Come on, buddy, calm down."

Slowly, Dean's sobs began to ebb. The child was convinced he'd never be able to sit down ever again!

Knowing there was no painless way to do it, John, as gently as possible pulled Dean's underwear and sweatpants back up over the reddened skin.

"Owww," murmured Dean, another sob escaping.

John lifted Dean upright and sat him on his lap, ignoring the wince as the boy's backside connected with his thighs, and wrapped his arms tightly around child, pulling him against his chest. Dean cried out the rest of his tears into his father's shoulder, comforted by the soothing words that John continued to murmur and the calloused hand gently rubbing his back.

At last, Dean unburied his face with a final sniffle.

"You okay now, kiddo?" asked John, smoothing his hand through Dean's short hair.

The eight-year-old nodded. "Uh-uh, but did you have to spank me so hard, Daddy?"

John raised his eyebrows at the question. "Yes I did and just so you know, if you take yourself off without permission again, you'll get the whole spanking on your bare bottom. Are we clear, mister?"

Dean quickly nodded. "Yeah, but I'm not gonna do that again. Ever!"

"Good." John dropped a kiss onto Dean's head and knowing how much both of his sons craved comfort after a spanking, he settled back with the eight-year-old snuggled on his knee.

John flicked through the TV channels until he came to one that was showing _Star Wars_. Knowing that that was one of Dean's all-time favourite movies, he set the remote aside. At first, Dean squirmed every so often to try and alleviate the pain in his backside, but his wriggling gradually subsided as the sting abated.

Half an hour later, John looked at the clock. He gently lifted Dean from his lap onto the sofa next to him.

"I'm just gonna go check on Sammy, kiddo," he explained, affectionately ruffling Dean's hair as he stood up.

"'Kay, Daddy," the eight-year-old murmured, turning his attention back to the TV.

John made his way upstairs, frowning when he saw Sam's bedroom door wide open instead of just ajar as he'd left it. _Maybe the kid needed to go to the bathroom?_ he thought. As soon as he reached the doorway, John realised that his youngest's bed was indeed empty, so he continued further down the hallway to check if his youngest had needed to pee.

The bathroom was empty. John frowned. _How could he lose two children in the same evening?_ He glanced around, trying to figure out where else Sammy might have gone.

Seeing the light coming from under the door of his and Mary's room, John was convinced (and relieved!) that he had found his missing scamp. Upon opening the door, he was greeted with the sight of his baby bouncing up and down merrily on their luxury kingsize bed, both hands covering his mouth in order to stifle his delighted giggles.

"Samuel Winchester just what do you think you're doing?" John's stern voice halted the toddler's jumping in its tracks.

"Ummmm…." Sam knew that when his parents used his full name it usually meant he was in trouble, "….I not doin' nothin', Daddy."

John raised his eyebrow and placed his hands on his hips. "Nothing, huh? I happen to think you're being very naughty."

The four-year-old shook his head in denial vehemently. "Nuh-uh. I's not naughty. I good boy!"

Deciding that arguing with a toddler was fruitless and also that actions would speak louder than words, John seated himself on the edge of the bed grasped Sam, who was still standing in the middle of the bed, around his waist and flipped him over his lap.

"Nooooo, Daddy, no spank!" wailed the toddler.

John raised his hand and snapped his palm down smartly onto the pyjama-clad bottom. Sam clutched hold of John's pant leg and kicked wildly as four more stinging swats landed on target.

**Supernatural ~ Supernatural ~ Supernatural ~**

Dean jerked his attention away from Han Solo, Luke Skywalker and Princess Leia getting crushed in the garbage masher as soon as he heard his little brother's wail. Something was wrong with Sammy! Dean quickly ascended the stairs, being careful to walk fast and not break the house rule of not running, not prepared to risk any more swats after being spanked. He also knew that his Daddy was up here too and he would look after Sammy and make sure he was okay. He figured his little brother had most likely had a nightmare. Dean halted for a moment, puzzled, when he realised Sammy's room was empty, but then he easily followed the excruciating wails down the hall to his parent's room. He reached the open doorway just in time to see John administer the final sharp smack to Sam's bottom.

_Oh. Sammy was getting a spanking. That explained the wails_. Dean turned and made his way quietly back downstairs. He hated it whenever Sammy cried, but knew that if it was because the toddler had been punished there was nothing he could do to stop it.

John lifted his chastised child and cuddled him against his chest. As Sammy buried his face into his daddy's chest, his loud wails finally receded to be replaced by hysterical sobbing. John wasn't worried by the level of emotion, he knew the spanking hadn't been harsh and was used to the toddler's theatrics.

"Shhh, Sammy, you're okay now, baby boy," John soothed, rocking the child in his arms and rubbing his back gently in order to calm Sam down.

Slowly, Sam's crying tapered off to just sniffles and then to the occasional hiccup. John pulled the child away from his chest and sat him on his knee so that he could talk to him.

"Owwie," complained the toddler as his freshly spanked backside made contact with his father's lap, lifting still tear-filled hazel eyes to meet John's gaze, his lower lip protruding in an adorable pout.

"I'm sorry I had to do that, Sammy. I don't like spanking you. But you were naughty. Are you allowed to jump on Momma and Daddy's bed?"

The toddler shook his head and sniffled. "No, cuz I might falled off."

"That's right, because we don't want you to get hurt. Also, are you allowed to get up after bedtime unless you need to go potty?"

Again the toddler shook his head. "I's sorry, Daddy."

Sam attempted to wipe his nose on his pyjama sleeve. Wordlessly, John reached over to the bedside table and grabbed two tissues. The first he held in front of the toddler's nose and instructed him to blow and the second he used to wipe the remains of the tears from his cheeks. He then stood up with Sammy in his arms and carried the little boy to his own bedroom.

John pulled back the Sesame Street duvet and carefully laid the toddler on his side, mindful of his sore bottom. He handed the child his favourite teddy, Scruff, that he always slept with. Sammy hugged it tightly to him, but as soon as John stood up to leave, the little boy reached out and snatched hold of his sleeve.

"Don' leave me, Daddy."

John could tell that his baby was tired – the excitement of the evening, the later bedtime and the stress of the spanking had all finally caught up with him. He seated himself back on the bed and began to card his hand soothingly through the toddler's soft brown hair.

Satisfied that his Daddy wasn't going to leave him, Sam popped his thumb in his mouth and closed his eyes.

John stayed with his youngest until he was certain that he was fast asleep. He then gently tugged Sam's thumb from his mouth before leaving the room quietly.

**Supernatural ~ Supernatural ~ Supernatural ~**

Dean looked up as John entered. "Is Sammy okay?" he immediately asked, "What did he do?"

John knew there was no way that his eldest wouldn't have heard his baby brother's wailing.

"Sammy's fine, Deano," he was quick to reassure the boy, "he was using mine and Momma's bed as a trampoline."

"Oh," murmured Dean, thinking about it, "Did you have to spank him though? Couldn't you have just put him back to bed? He's only little."

John raised his eyebrow in amusement. _His eight-year-old was giving him parenting advice!_

"Sammy may be little, Dean, but he's not stupid. He knows that at bedtime he is to stay in bed, asleep or not. If I hadn't spanked him, all he would've learned is that he can be naughty and get away with it.

"I suppose," muttered Dean, "but I don't like it when he's upset."

"That's because you're an awesome big brother, " grinned John, then he continued seriously, "but punishing Sammy is necessary sometimes to teach him right from wrong."

John glanced towards the dining room where a mountain of work still awaited him and then back at his eldest. Making a decision, he seated himself next to Dean on the sofa – spending time with his son was more important than paperwork. When Dean immediately climbed back into his lap and settled back against his father's broad chest with a happy sigh, John knew he'd made the right decision. Work would always be there, but his sons only had one childhood and John knew that the day would come all too soon when Dean would consider himself too old to sit on laps anymore.

A short while later, a soft snore alerted John to the fact that Dean had fallen asleep. For a moment, he just watched the eight-year-old slumber, his heart swelling with love for his child. Then carefully, he lifted the child into his arms and stood up. Dean didn't stir and John carried him up to bed.


End file.
